The Goddess Wants to Play
by Perspex13
Summary: Beckett's friend Carly (mentioned in 6x19) visits the precinct during Season 3.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Goddess Wants to Play

Rating: T

Timeline: Mid-Season 3 AU.

Summary: Beckett's friend Carly visits the precinct during Season 3.

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional or uncompensated.

A/N: I get a kick out of stories that mess with the established timeline. For this little story, I've plucked Beckett's friend Carly from 6x19 (The Way of the Ninja) and imagined what might've happened had she visited the precinct several years earlier. Just as a quick reminder, when Beckett was telling Castle about her friend, she said "You are exactly her type. And the last thing I need is to watch someone from my past trying to seduce my fiancé while talking about the goddess that lives in her hoo-ha." So, buckle up, here comes a much different take on season three than my last story. Quick warning: I don't write 'M' fics, but that doesn't mean the discussions won't get risqué.

* * *

 **Tuesday, Late Morning**

"Hey, Becks," Esposito calls out with amusement as he walks into the bullpen, "forget anything?"

Refusing to look up from the paperwork that's vexing her as she races to complete the documentation demanded by the DA's office, Beckett growls an answer. "Yeah, to break your kneecaps for calling me 'Becks.'"

"Would you prefer 'Katie'?" asks a feminine voice, instantly collecting Beckett's attention.

"Carly! Oh my God, I totally forgot!" Beckett emits as she stands at her desk and strides over to greet her high-school friend who's visiting the city for a few days, and with whom she was supposed to go out to lunch.

"Look at you!" Carly marvels, pulling out of the hug and holding Beckett at arms' length to examine her. "You must be the most gorgeous detective in the city," Carly compliments, and Beckett's embarrassed to feel the leading edge of a faint blush. This is Carly, so unless she's changed, her innate competitiveness will prompt a comment that'll reclaim some of the ground ceded by these kind words, but she'll take them for now.

"Makes me feel bad about coming straight from the airport," Carly says with a hand that primps her hair. It's an act, of course, since she looks fantastic. She's still petite – an active gymnast in high school and college, it looks like she's still at it based on the toned arms and legs highlighted by her flowy, sleeveless blouse, knee-length skirt, and sexy heels. But it's her hair that still commands attention. Carly was blessed with a head of devastatingly perfect thick, curly hair. "But I didn't want to be late for our lunch outing, so I just dashed over."

"Oh, Carly, about that…," Beckett starts to explain, wondering how her friend will react to a postponement.

"Don't you even ' _Oh, Carly_ ,' me," she replies with a perched brow. "How often am I in town? Plus, you've got to eat, right?"

One of the problems with her friend coming from money, Beckett realizes anew, is that she's never really appreciated the necessity of meeting job requirements and responsibilities. But there's no way Beckett can leave without finishing the documentation for the DA's office.

"I'm really sorry…," Beckett starts again, before being cut off again.

"Come on, Becks," Carly commands, causing more smirks from Ryan and Esposito who are deriving entirely too much pleasure from watching Beckett get worked over by someone she can't boss around. Of course, they're both drooling a little bit, too, so she'll have to settle their hash later. "I saw the most darling place on the ride over. It reminds me of the best little patisserie in Paris, this little place on Rue Rougemont. It shut down, but it had the _cutest_ …," she trails off her attention is captured by Castle, who saunters over from the break room with coffee in hand.

With his eyes on Carly, Castle hands the coffee mug to Beckett before completing the motion to hold his hand out to the visitor. As Carly clasps his hand, Beckett finally remembers her manners.

"You've already met Esposito," Beckett says, though Carly's focus on Castle is so complete that it's unclear whether she's hearing anything. "And his partner, Ryan. This is…"

"Rick," Castle cuts in smoothly as he lifts Carly's hand and graces it with a gentle kiss, never taking his eyes off hers.

"Carly," Beckett's friend replies in a low, smoky voice, apparently forgetting that there's anyone else in the room.

"Forgive my presumption," Castle requests smoothly, "I couldn't help but overhear. Were you talking about the place with the green door on Rougemont?" When Carly finally nods after realizing that she'd frozen up, Castle offers a wide smile. "Good news – it didn't shut down. Joséphine moved to a new place over by Galerie d'Orléans on Rue de Montpensier."

"That _is_ good news," Carly answers with an unfurling smile of her own. "That place was my second-favorite in Paris. It's almost as good as _Zatarra's_ in…"

"Marseilles?" Castle answers. "You're right, their bouillabaisse is divine. What about _Salut!_ in…,"

"London, obviously," Carly answers with a grin, enjoying this game. Ryan and Esposito, meanwhile, keep swiveling their necks to watch the back-and-forth as if attending a tennis match. "They're a little heavy with the garlic, but not as bad they are with the pepper at _Gregor's_ …," she offers as a tease, curious to see if Castle knows the place.

"In St. Petersburg, right?" Castle returns the volley, failing to notice Beckett's upturned brows at the reference to a Russian location. "If I want to eat there again, you'll have to sneak me in," Castle offers with a conspiratorial whisper. "Ol' Gregor and I had a bit of a disagreement."

"Oh, dear," Carly laughs, giving the same chiming giggle that Beckett remembers her using when they were younger. From Castle's look, it's even more potent now. "A troublemaker, are you? Better stay away from _The Blushing Lady_ in…"

"Shanghai," Castle answers with a grin. "But really, how am I supposed to stay away from a place with a name like that?" he asks with a rakish grin. "I _adore_ blushing ladies."

Carly accommodates on cue, to Beckett's disgust.

"What about _Es Terral_?" Carly asks, looking triumphant when Castle draws a blank. "Ha! I win! What's the matter, Rick, never been to Ibiza?"

Now Castle's the one who's blushing. Carly senses something interesting, but the rest of the team leans in, too, since not much manages to dent Castle's ego.

"Ibiza…," Castle repeats, finally releasing Carly's hand so he can run his fingers through his hair. "I've been there. Didn't get out much," he admits with a shrug. "Just the book signing and the hotel," he clarifies, though his blush darkens by a degree.

"Book signing?" Carly asks, before illumination strikes her. "You're Richard Castle!" Spinning to face Beckett, she admonishes her friend. " _This_ is the annoying writer who always gets in your way?" she asks incredulously. Facing away from him, she fails to notice Castle's flinch at this description, though Beckett cringes in recognition.

That's not a fair characterization of her comments, but before Beckett can explain or offer an apology, Carly's already spun back to face Castle. "Wait a minute. You didn't leave the hotel while you were staying on a beautiful Mediterranean island?" she purrs as she walks around to his side and wraps her arm through his. "There must've been quite a distraction."

"What I can remember of it, yeah," Castle answers with a short laugh.

"So, Rick, why don't you tell me all about it over lunch?" Carly entreats in a breathy voice. "Kate here's trying to ditch me anyway, so why don't you show me the _best_ New York has to offer?" she asks while giving him a lingering look from head to toe.

"Carly, I was just going to delay…," Beckett starts to suggest, strangely uncomfortable with how things have developed, but her friend cuts her off yet again.

"Maybe dinner, Becks?" she calls out over her shoulder as she pulls Castle toward the elevator. "I'm in town until I leave for my yoga retreat on Friday morning. I'll call!" she offers in what Beckett thinks is an insincere tone. But the elevator doors are already sliding shut, preventing a reply.

Beckett's still looking at the elevator in disbelief when Ryan startles her.

"Wow," he offers, eyebrows raised. "That was…"

"I know, right?" Esposito replies when Ryan says nothing more, looking at the elevator himself. "I mean, I didn't believe the stories, but it's different after seeing him in action."

"Must be nice to be a famous author," Ryan ponders, but Esposito starts shaking his head.

"I don't know, bro," he disagrees. "She was pretty in to him before she knew who he was. Still, probably didn't hurt."

"'Mating rituals of the rich and famous,'" Ryan suggests. "If feels like Robin Leach should be narrating."

"Nah," Esposito replies as he finally starts moving towards his desk. "The kind of show they'd be in wouldn't have a narrator, just a generic techno backbeat. I swear, it looked like he could've just swept Beckett's desk clear and taken her friend…," he pauses suddenly, realizing Beckett's listening with an eyebrow cocked, "out to lunch."

"Speaking of lunch," Ryan interjects quickly, noticing Beckett's look only became frostier after Espo's attempted course correction, "just because Beckett's working through it doesn't mean I'm not hungry. I know a lovely little food truck that reminds me of the most darling little eatery in Florence," he teases, noticing the corner of Beckett's lips turning up.

"Must you?" Esposito replies with a ridiculous accent, some mangled stew of Mafioso, Cockney, and snob. "I'm feeling peckish for some nosh from a right little shop that reminds me of dive in Brisbane."

"Smashing!" Ryan replies, marching smartly up beside Esposito and offering an elbow. "Let us depart!"

When they stride off to the stairs with arms linked and drawing many odd looks, Beckett finally gives up and lets a chuckle rumble free. Shaking her head at their ridiculousness, she slides back into her chair and returns to her paperwork.

* * *

 **Tuesday, Late Afternoon**

" _So, Becks, what'm I dealing with here_?" Beckett hears her friend ask as soon as she answers her cell phone. She's still sitting at her desk, still working on the DA's paperwork, and still hasn't eaten, so she's not in the best mood.

"Carly? Where are you?" she asks her friend, trying to switch gears and figure out what her friend's asking.

" _I'm at Rick's place_ ," Carly offers boldly, smile apparent from her tone. " _In his bedroom_."

"What are you doing in Castle's bedroom?!" Beckett asks, astonished at the speed of this development. Her shock is mirrored by Ryan and Esposito, though she suspects there are other aspects of this development capturing their attention. To limit the gossip, she rises from her desk and heads for the stairs.

" _I'm snooping, obviously_ ," Carly answers with limited patience.

"Snoop – where's Castle?" Beckett asks, growing annoyed that all she's done is fire off questions.

" _In the shower_ ," Carly laughs. " _I 'accidentally' spilled some wine on him while we were cooking_."

At this, Beckett pulls the phone away from her ear and gives it a hard stare, making sure that it's actually connected and that it shows Carly's number. "Carly?" she asks as she returns the phone to her ear. "You don't cook."

" _Becks, if a rich, famous, hunky man wants to make dinner with me, I cook_."

"I thought we were having dinner together?" she asks, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling stealing over her as she imagines Carly flitting about the loft's kitchen.

" _Ah, no_ ," Carly says clearly, not sounding very contrite. " _Sorry, but have you *seen* Rick_? _Maybe lunch tomorrow_ ," she suggests. " _Hopefully, a late one_ ," she appends with a sultry voice.

"What," Beckett fires off sarcastically, "you're not inviting me over to try out the dinner you slaved over?"

" _Are you kidding_?" Carly replies immediately. " _I already have to share his attention with Alyssa._ "

"Alexis," Beckett offers.

" _Yeah, her_ ," Carly continues without a care and without missing a beat. " _But I'm hoping he'll take me out after dinner_."

"Is Martha joining you?" Beckett asks, wondering how much reconnaissance and planning Carly's managed.

" _Who's that, the nanny_?" Carly asks, perplexed. " _Can't be a lady – there's no pictures in his room_."

"She's his mother," Beckett explains, laughing to herself as she imagines Martha's reaction to the supposition that she 'can't be a lady.' "She lives in the loft."

" _He lives with his mother_?" Carly asks incredulously. " _I knew there had to be some problem_."

"She fell on some hard times and he opened his home to her," Beckett offers, feeling it's important to recognize Castle's generosity after her earlier uncharitable comment hurt him.

" _Oh_ ," Carly offers, sounding immensely happier. " _Okay. That'd have to change_."

"What?" Beckett asks in surprise. "What would have to change?"

" _So, mother and daughter. Anyone else I need to know about_?" Carly asks, ignoring Beckett's question.

"He works with his ex-wife," Beckett offers, getting annoyed by this conversation and reveling in the chance to throw some kinks into Carly's plans. "She's his editor, lives here in town. And he's got another ex in Hollywood."

" _Everyone knows about them_ ," Carly dismisses in a tone that has Beckett imaging rolled eyes. " _The redhead's a terrible actress who'll sleep with anybody and the blonde's someone he turns to when he's hurt_ ," she recites blandly as if this information is available in a public dossier. " _I'm not worried about either of them_."

"What do you mean, everyone knows about them?" Beckett objects. "You didn't even know who Castle was this morning!"

" _I knew all about Richard Castle_ ," Carly objects, " _I just didn't recognize him. Your description certainly didn't do him any justice_."

By design, Beckett thinks. To avoid exactly this situation, she thinks, though she's careful not to explore her own rationale.

" _Anybody else to know about aside from the ex-wives_?" Carly persists.

"Nothing serious," Beckett grates out, still thinking about the assertion that Castle returns to Gina when he's hurt and last year's bungled timing with Demming. "Not that I know of." When Carly remains quiet, Beckett thinks she's fishing, so she removes the final hurdle. "And nothing here. We're just partners."

" _Of course you are_ ," Carly replies with a chuckle, as if this was completely obvious. But before Beckett can press her about what she meant, her friend interjects again. " _Gotta go, just heard the shower turn off_."

"What, time to strip down and jump into his bed?" Beckett asks sarcastically, still stung by Carly's casual dismissal of the notion that she and Castle might be more than work partners.

But her jibe accomplishes nothing but a laugh from her friend. " _Oh, Becks_ ," she says in exasperation. " _That's not how this works. He's got to work for it, strive for it, be *desperate* for it. He wants to commune with the goddess, he needs to worship_ ," she says with a laugh. " _I'll tell you about it at lunch tomorrow, unless we're still busy_!"

With that farewell, Carly ends the call, leaving Beckett staring incredulously at her phone. She jolts in surprise when it rings in her hand, this time showing Montgomery's number. " _Beckett, where are you_? _The DA wants those forms_!"

With a sigh, Beckett turns to head back to her desk. On the way, she remembers that she was supposed to meet Josh for lunch tomorrow. Great. Well, he'll get to meet Carly. After she makes her play for Castle. What could that possibly go wrong? she thinks fatalistically, laughing grimly as she trudges up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional or uncompensated.

* * *

 **Wednesday, Early Afternoon**

"Sorry," Josh says, casting Beckett a look of utter disbelief. "She thinks there's a goddess who lives _where_?!"

"Don't be mean," Beckett replies, trying to keep things light. "She was a friend in high school and I still enjoy her visits, even if she's insanely competitive and a bit of a handful."

"I take it she's not one for punctuality?" he asks, casting another look at his watch.

"She might not show," Beckett replies, fidgeting with her menu. Something's got Josh on edge already, since he seems to be looking for excuses for this meeting to go poorly. "She's not usually late, but she had another engagement last night and I haven't heard from her today," she explains demurely, figuring that bringing Castle into the conversation is unlikely to calm Josh down.

Further thought on this front is halted by Carly's entrance, which is memorable if not impressive. Gone is yesterday's poise and grace; Carly plods to the table and collapses into a chair, calling out to a nearby waiter for a Bloody Mary. Turning her attention back to the table, she tries to take off her sunglasses but squints when she finds the lighting too bright. Dropping the glasses back onto her face, she turns to her friend.

"Hi, Carly," Beckett says as she assesses her friend. "This is Josh. Josh, this is Carly."

Carly offers a hand, which Josh lifts with some hesitation, looking worried that even a gentle shake might jar Carly and exacerbate whatever condition she's suffering.

"Carly, are you okay?" Beckett asks, growing a little concerned herself.

"I'm a doctor," Josh offers, cutting a quick look at Beckett.

"Just a rough night," Carly replies, looking over her shoulder to check on the status of her drink. Perhaps taking a cue, Josh lifts his iced tea to take a sip. "That partner of yours is a machine. He can go for hours and hours and hours, can't he?"

As Josh spits into his drink and starts coughing, Beckett's eyebrows skyrocket. But, as usual, Carly keeps going without waiting for a reply.

"At least I'm up and moving before…," she pauses to look at her watch, "well, within an hour or two of noon. I bet he's still recovering."

"Ah, Carly?" Beckett asks, worried about correcting her friend. "Castle was at the precinct this morning, just like always."

"Making coffee," Josh mumbles to himself, earning a curious look from Beckett.

"Really?" Carly asks, ignoring Josh. She sounds impressed rather than disappointed, perking up at this news. "Impressive stamina," she thinks aloud, ignoring more hacking coughs from Josh, who thought it was safe to return to his drink. "We were out dancing 'til three this morning and he clearly could've kept going. Tonight's gonna be so much fun," she says with anticipatory excitement starting to break through her lethargy.

"What's tonight?" Beckett asks. Josh, who'd been reaching toward his glass, quickly withdraws his hand for fear that Carly's answer will cause more trouble.

"I coaxed him into inviting me to the children's hospital fundraiser gala tonight. Aren't you going?" she asks of Beckett.

"I'm on shift," Beckett lies as an excuse. She knew nothing about the gala and Josh isn't much into dancing.

"We prefer to support healthcare more directly," Josh offers somewhat piously.

"Too bad," Carly replies, her decision not to follow up on Josh's comment clearly intentional. "Did you know dancing is one of the oldest forms of worship? Plus," she adds, more color returning to her cheeks, "a good dance is better than sex. Do it right and that's really what it is."

"Speaking from experience after your night with Castle?" Beckett asks, aiming for facetious and not quite making it, getting an odd look from Josh.

" _Absolutely_ ," Carly sighs happily. "That man can tango like the devil himself. If he dances like that, then his time with the goddess will…"

This time Carly's interrupted, by the ringing of Josh's cell phone.

"Oh, thank God," he murmurs as he reaches for the phone, connecting the call and holding the phone to his ear. Unable to contain his look of reprieve, he hangs up and makes his apologies. "That was the hospital. I need to go," he offers in apology, scooting away from the table.

"Good luck with the…," Carly waves her hand as her drink arrives, "sick people."

Josh pauses at her farewell, then decides that his best option is a quick escape. With a wave at Beckett, he heads for the door and blessed freedom.

"You did that on purpose," Beckett charges without malice.

"He seems very big on people knowing he's a doctor," Carly replies with a shrug as she takes a large gulp, humming in satisfaction.

"It's a big part of who he is," Beckett replies. "I guess he didn't know that I've already told you about him," she speculates, wondering why Josh felt the need to volunteer his profession.

"Well, now we can really talk without John around," Carly answers happily, somehow implying that she's been editing herself so far in this conversation.

"Josh," Beckett reminds her friend.

"Yeah, him," Carly replies, obviously without a care. "Any advice for tonight – favorite color, favorite scent?"

Beckett's about to reply when she changes her mind and decides to withhold her advice. "Why? I thought you had this in hand?"

Placing her drink back on the table, Carly scrunches her mouth in a look of frustration. "He's a little trickier than I thought," she confesses. "It makes sense – he's a prime target and he's used to the chase. But his daughter Alison is also going."

"Alexis," Beckett offers again.

"Yeah, her," Carly replies. "She's bringing a date, but she seems very clingy. I mean, seriously – what teenaged girl in her right mind wants to spend time with her father, _especially_ if she's got a date with her?"

A teenager who's smart and used to protecting her father, Beckett thinks to herself. God bless that girl.

"With any luck, her date will distract her," Carly muses, unaware of Beckett's mental tangent.

"So," Beckett offers to move things along, "is this a formal event?"

"Black tie," Carly answers, focusing on Beckett again as she releases a predatory smile. "So I get to see him in a tux. At least for a while," she adds with a wink, clearly thinking about how the tux will look discarded on the floor. "I've got a dress and a spa appointment in an hour. Mani, pedi, and a haircut. He'd damned well better notice."

"He will," Beckett offers quietly, growing increasingly depressed about this whole situation. As much as she enjoys her friend, she doesn't enjoy seeing her like this – it's too calculating, too opportunistic. Castle deserves better. "He's never failed to notice and compliment me after I change my hair," she admits, "even when he preferred the old style."

Failing to notice or recognize Beckett's wistful look at this realization, Carly plows ahead. "I'd ask for the name of your stylist but I'm all set with the spa. Besides, I need to prep the temple, too," she adds with a conspiratorial wink that has Beckett cringing.

"For a goddess, she seems to be doing all the work," Beckett offers, not even bothering to wonder why she's taking this shot.

"How do goddesses stay strong?" Carly replies immediately, creating the disturbing impression that she's thought about this a lot. "With worship. I might be going to a lot of effort," she says wickedly, "but I'm not the one who'll be on my knees tonight!"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional or uncompensated.

* * *

 **Thursday, Early Afternoon**

"Hello?" Beckett answers her cell as she strides down the sidewalk, concerned that she's running late.

"It's me," Josh says while sounding slightly aggrieved. "Couldn't you tell by the number?"

"Sorry," Beckett offers, wondering why she's apologizing. "I didn't check the screen before answering the phone."

"Where are you?" Josh asks, clearly picking up on the background noises around her.

"On my way to meet Carly for a late lunch," she answers while dodging around the delivery dolly operated by a lackadaisical delivery boy. "You didn't seem to enjoy her company yesterday, so I figured I'd leave you out of this one."

"You gonna tell her I'm your boyfriend this time?" he offers with some pique.

Seriously? "Is that why you were upset yesterday?" she asks, not exerting much effort to hide her tone of disbelief. "It was pretty obvious from the context, even if I hadn't talked to her before lunch. If we weren't together, it would've been pretty weird for you to be there, don't you think?"

"So, is this another planning session in her campaign to bed Castle?" Josh asks, ignoring her question and apparently moving on to a new topic.

"Probably," Beckett answers, happy to move the conversation along even if she's not happy with the topic. "She didn't say exactly what she wanted to discuss."

"Well, enjoy your time with her," he offers in a tone that makes it clear he thinks that's unimaginable. "And wish her luck for me," he says before ending the call.

When Carly called her last week, Beckett knew there'd be a certain amount of stress associated her visit. There always is. And once she targeted Castle, Beckett knew things would be even worse than expected. But Josh's behavior wasn't expected, she thinks, and he's not exactly distinguishing himself.

Carly's already at a table in the small restaurant to which she directed her friend when Beckett arrives. She waves a waitress over to take their order as soon as she sees Beckett, forcing the detective to order something off the top of her head without consulting the menu.

"Hungry?" Beckett asks as a comment at her friend's impatience.

"Yes, but not for food," Carly answers, sounding perturbed.

"Funny, I thought you were going to satisfy that craving last night," Beckett asks with a perched brow, wondering why she's happy about this development.

"So did I," her friend practically growls. "He's a wily one," she continues in a voice of grudging respect.

"I saw the pictures in the paper," Beckett offers. "Looks like it was a fun event." But not for you, Beckett suspects. The pictures of the gala were lovely, but there's one in which Carly is obviously unamused by the crowd gathered around a laughing Castle.

"It was a fine party," Carly answers slowly.

"But…?" Beckett prompts.

"But he was a perfect gentleman! All night long!" Carly complains. "He introduced me to everyone – the mayor, actors, models, doctors, some wrinkled old baseball guy – and everyone wanted to talk to him," she grumps about the divided attention. "I never got more than two dances in a row before someone cut in. Even Alice!"

"Alexis," Beckett offers, hiding her smile.

"Yeah, her," Carly grumbles casually while reaching for her water.

"Was it another late night?" Beckett asks, genuinely interested in the contours of this outing now that she knows the ending.

"No! Not even midnight!" Carly complains bitterly. "He wanted to get his precious daughter home before she turned back into a pumpkin," she speculates while Beckett smiles as she thinks about Castle's nickname for Alexis.

"So, that's it, then?" Beckett asks, trying to hide the optimism in her voice. "You leave tomorrow, right?"

"Oh, no," Carly answers, steel in her voice. "We're going out tonight and there's no more messing around. No gala event, no daughter, no interfering friends, groupies, or photographers," she vows. "Just me in my littlest black dress, Rick in what'd better be an easily removable suit, and a romantic dinner followed by a quiet jazz club."

"Sounds like quite a plan," Beckett offers. Carly thinks she's complimenting the efforts, while Beckett's impressed at the merry chase on which Castle is leading her friend.

"I've planned everything," Carly replies with a satisfied nod. "He wants to play hardball? He's not even in my league," she growls, looking more predatory than Beckett's ever recognized. "He's teased for too long – the goddess wants to play!"

* * *

 **Thursday, Late Afternoon**

Castle's sitting in his chair beside Beckett's desk when an unfamiliar ring tone jolts them both. With an apologetic smile, he reaches into his jacket and withdraws his phone, rising as he answers.

While he'd started to walk away for privacy or to avoid annoying Beckett, he's only made it a few steps before he disconnects and returns to his chair.

"That was your friend Carly," he explains as he takes a seat. "She wants to come upstairs but she needs an escort through security."

"Then why'd she call you and not me?" Beckett huffs. When Castle only shrugs, Beckett blows out another breath, then rises and makes her way to the elevator.

Carly's waiting at the security desk when she arrives on the ground floor, chatting up the desk sergeant who's looking at her hopefully. But when she sees Beckett, she ends her conversation, pats the sergeant on the wrist, and scoops up a tray of drinks.

"You're looking good," Beckett compliments. And while Carly has clearly primped a bit since their lunch meeting, the real change is in her demeanor. She seems calmer and happier now, obviously embarking on a new approach in her campaign. The shift makes Beckett nervous.

"Coffee?" Carly asks sweetly as they step back onto the elevator. "Rick said it's your lifeblood."

"And his is chocolate milkshake?" Beckett asks while surveying the drinks in the tray.

Carly merely shrugs in reply, looking the coquette. "I hope he'll need the energy."

Beckett shakes her head and accepts her drink as a peace offering, but she's still wary of what her friend is up to. Upon arrival in Homicide, Carly again shows a different approach. This time, while she starts by delivering the milkshake to Castle, she takes the time to introduce herself and chat with Ryan and Esposito. Even Montgomery, who'd stuck his head out of his office to investigate the commotion, is graced with a visit from Carly who surprises the whole team when she steps into his office to chat with him.

"She seems a little calmer," Esposito observes while sending a sidelong glance toward Castle.

"Not as tense. More relaxed," Ryan agrees as he turns to scrutinize Castle.

"I'm sure her hotel has a good spa," Castle speculates while shirking their attention. "And there's nothing like a good massage. Almost like a religious experience, right, Beckett?"

Beckett sputters on her coffee, wondering if this comment is an oblique reference to Carly's unconventional belief system and her failure to warn him about it. His face is maddeningly blank, so she really can't tell. He seems unperturbed as he slurps down more of his milkshake, grinning in delight at their collective annoyance at the sounds he makes with his straw.

Carly finally emerges from Montgomery's office, smiling widely and sauntering back over to Beckett's desk. "I should go," she says, surprising Beckett. "I'll see you soon?" she asks Castle.

"I should get ready, too," he offers, tossing his cup in the trash and lifting his satchel. "Share a cab?"

Carly refrains from taking Castle's arm, but otherwise their departure is eerily reminiscent of the way they left the precinct two days ago. Just as then, Ryan and Esposito watch with undisguised interest, though this time Ryan tries to surreptitiously catch a glimpse of Beckett's reaction. She gives away nothing, of course, though inside she's very on edge. That whole scene was off, almost staged. Castle seemed his normal self, but Carly was too calm, too relaxed. Espo'd commented on it and he was right, but not for the right reasons. Beckett's instincts are screaming, but she's not sure why.

Not until minutes later when she's back at her desk, when she bolts into action.

* * *

 **Thursday, Later Afternoon**

"Good Lord, Kate," Lanie admonishes with a hand grasping her chest in shock, "what'd my poor doors do to annoy you? It's possible to enter my lair without tearing them off the hinges and scaring me half to death, you know."

"Sorry," Beckett offers peremptorily, focused and worried about her suspicions. "Can you run a tox screen? Right now?" she asks as she lifts a clear plastic bag containing Castle's milkshake container.

"It looks like you're gonna pull your gun if I promise you results within two days," Lanie answers with a raised brow. "I didn't think you had an active case right now."

"It's not for… it's for a hunch," Beckett stumbles, uninterested in addressing all the questions her friend's likely to raise if Beckett shares her concerns. "Please, Lanie? I'll pay for it. I just need to know. Fast."

"Hey, honey," Lanie answers while walking around a lab table, worried about what's got Beckett so worked up. "You had me at 'please,' girlfriend," she promises as she rubs Beckett's arm. "Just sit back and watch the magic. Unless you'd rather go get us sandwiches? This might take a little while."

"Thanks, Lanie," Beckett answers in a low voice, covering her friend's hand before breaking toward the exit. This time, she's careful to be gentle with the doors even though thrashing them again might help her release some anxiety. Taking the stairs out of the OCME building, she lets her mind wander and almost forgets to send Josh a text to let him know that she's out for dinner. She types it out hastily as her feet lead her toward Pret, where she picks out a sandwich and a salad, figuring she'll eat whichever one Lanie doesn't want.

She's just started her return trip when her phone rings, brightening her mood considerably.

"You've got the results already?" Beckett asks as she answers, anxious to put her fears to rest.

"Results?" Josh asks. Beckett steps to the side of the walkway and closes her eyes, preparing for another comment about how she answered without knowing it's him.

"Just waiting on some lab results," she offers. "I'm on my way to the Medical Examiner's office."

"Oh," Josh offers. "So, you're ditching me for Lanie, not Carly or Castle."

"I'm not ditching you," Beckett replies, irritated. "I'm doing my job."

"When aren't you?" Josh grumbles, sounding perturbed.

"Your job's important to you," she replies with some heat, thinking about yesterday's nonsense if not his frequent trips, "and mine's important to me."

"But I've got surgeries tomorrow," Josh persists. "So I can't stay up late tonight."

"Then you should get some rest," Beckett offers an obvious solution. "I'll likely be chasing this lead for a while."

"Good luck," Josh replies by rote, pouting. "'Night."

"Goodbye," Beckett answers, unable to stop her mind from thinking about Castle's theory about 'goodbye' versus 'until tomorrow.' She thinks she chose well.

She's in a black mood when she reenters OCME, though she's again careful to enter Lanie's lab quietly. This backfires spectacularly when Lanie, unaware that she's arrived, turns and screams like a teenaged heroine in a horror flick.

"Come with me," she says after calming down, still annoyed by Beckett's laughter. Dragging her friend back to the door by her hand, Lanie stops only to manipulate Beckett's arm so that it's raised. Reaching up to curl her friend's fingers, Lanie proceeds to move Beckett's arm to make her fist knock against the door. "See?" she asks in exasperation. "Not difficult. Shall we practice?"

For as ridiculous as her lesson has been, Beckett realizes that her friend's managed to cheer her up, or at least distract her from Josh's call. She's about to thank Lanie when a buzzing chirp indicates the end of the tox screen cycle.

"Come on," Lanie grumbles, leading Beckett over to a computer screen. Manipulating the mouse, Lanie brings up a line chart with different colored spikes. With Beckett crowding into her from behind, Lanie maximizes the window and scoots to the side.

"Hold on," she says, playing with the mouse. "Give me a second and I can remove all the stuff we'd expect to see in this delicious little diabetes bomb." With tongue sticking out in concentration, Lanie guides the cursors through some sub-screens, nodding in satisfaction as many of the colored lines disappear from the chart.

"Okay," she says, settling in. "First things first: no evidence of rohypnol, if that was a concern. But these three things," she says while circling the cursor around red, green, and magenta spikes, "shouldn't be here. Let's see…," she trails off, focusing on the red spike and the chemical denotations on the table. "This one's methamphetamine," she starts to explain before Beckett erupts.

"Meth?!" she cries out, wondering what the hell her friend is up to.

Lanie's look of concern drops from her face as she stares at the screen. Instead, she looks interested, almost gleeful. "Hold on, I've read about this. Don't focus on the meth – that's just part of this cocktail. See this green spike? That's modafinil. Get it yet?" she asks, looking at Beckett and getting only a blank look in reply.

"Come on, detective! Really?" she asks again. Beckett no longer looks blank; instead, she looks angry.

"Get on with it, Lanie," she growls. "What's the purple spike?"

"Well, that'll give the whole thing away," Lanie complains. "Would it help if I said the last spike should be blue?" When Beckett merely shakes her head, Lanie huffs. "Blue, as in 'little blue pill?'"

"Is this some Matrix joke about taking the blue pill instead of the red?" Beckett asks, truly clueless.

"Well, you're young," Lanie says as if justifying Beckett's lack of understanding. "And you're gorgeous, so you probably haven't had to deal with this yet. But this line, detective," she says formally, "indicates a massive dosage of sildenafil citrate."

That chemical name tickles something in the back of her mind, but Beckett's not quite able to pinpoint why.

"Okay, fine," Lanie complains at the continuing lack of a reaction. "No more teasing. Red spike is meth – sold commercially with a prescription as Adderall XR, used to increase focus. Green spike is modafinil, brand name Provigil. It's a drug indicated to combat narcolepsy but is frequently used off-label to stay awake for long durations. Together, these two are an in vogue drug combination used by students anxious to invest remarkable amounts of energy and attention into long bouts of studying."

"So, what? The milkshake is a test-prep cocktail?" Beckett asks. "That doesn't make any sense."

"You're forgetting the magenta line. Sildenafil citrate, which you've seen advertised on TV as Viagra." Beckett's look of confusion morphs into a hilariously incredulous stare. Enjoying herself immensely, Lanie turns to face her friend as she summarizes. "A three-component cocktail. One element to increase his focus, one to eliminate his need for sleep, and one to help your vic rise – magnificently and repeatedly, based on the dosage – to the occasion."

With hands rubbing her temples as she tries to process the implications for Carly's plans, Beckett addresses her first concern for Castle. "Is it dangerous?"

"Very," Lanie cackles. "Your vic is gonna be hyper-focused and hyper-horny. Or at least hyper-ready," she laughs again. "He could pull a muscle and his lady's likely to be sore in the morning!"

"Lanie," Beckett objects, "I really need to know."

Taking note of her friend's tone, Lanie sobers. "There's one real concern," she instructs, cutting right to Beckett's question. "If your vic has cardiac problems, this could be a problem. Viagra was initially developed to address cardiovascular maladies, so if he's already got blood pressure issues he could be in trouble. But, for a one-time exposure, that's about it."

"Any behavioral side effects?" Beckett asks, trying to make her concerns sound clinical.

"This isn't a love potion and there's nothing here that contributes to dissociative episodes," Lanie answers. "So, your vic won't go on a rampage because of this drink, and he won't be able to claim impairment if he did anything he shouldn't have."

"Oh, Castle," Beckett sighs, thinking about what her friend has done to him.

" _Wait_ ," Lanie interrupts seriously. " _Castle_ drank this?!" she asks before erupting into booming laughter. "Castle on speed," she giggles to herself as she comes down from her high. "Did Javi and Ryan do this?" she asks, imagining the prank and Castle's likely retaliatory options.

"No," Beckett replies, looking grave. "A friend of mine."

"Looks like she's more interested in being a friend of his right now."

"Is he in danger?" Beckett asks, glad for this reason alone that she slipped and revealed the reason for her request. "Based on what you know about him?"

"From the drugs, probably not," Lanie answers. "He's healthy and if he's got any problems with his heart, they're from his partner, not a congenital condition," she jibes with a raised brow. "But is he in danger from your friend? You tell me."

"He's definitely in danger," Beckett answers, thinking back to Carly's comments and actions earlier today. "Thanks for your help Lanie, but I've got to go. I need to find him."

While this is a serious situation and her friend's clearly upset, Lanie can't help but fire off one last shot. "Just look up, Kate. If he's on his back, there'll be a new addition to the skyline!"

"Shut up!" Beckett calls out in game reply as she departs the lab and makes a break for the stairs. She's already got her phone in hand, Castle's number dialed in, so that she can hit the button as soon as she clears the building and the equipment that block her cell signal.

She heads straight for her cruiser, ready to drive to the loft and handcuff him to his refrigerator or front door to keep him safe. Then, thinking about her friend's apparent dedication to this cause and Castle's revealed past shenanigans, she decides that effort wouldn't guarantee success. She'll shackle him to Eduardo, she decides. Castle's unlikely to get into anything or let anything happen to him while he's connected to the building's doorman.

" _Hey, Beckett_ ," Castle picks up on the first ring, surprising her.

"Castle!" she says gratefully. "I need to…," Beckett cuts off as she hears rustling noises.

" _Hi, Becks_ ," Carly says slyly, apparently having wrenched Castle's cell phone away from him. " _So nice of you to call to send us off_."

"Carly, I can't believe you did that. It's assault! You walked into a police precinct and assaulted my partner!"

" _Yes, that's right_ ," Carly says, pretending for Castle's benefit that Beckett said something else entirely. " _Dinner and then dancing. Yes_ ," she continues after a pause, enjoying her ruse. " _I'm certainly going to stay away from the garlic_."

"Carly! Put Castle on the phone _now_!" Beckett commands.

" _Of course we are_ ," Carly giggles. " _See, Rick_ ," she says, apparently turning to Castle, " _Kate agrees with me. The phones need to stay home_."

"Carly!"

" _Have fun with Jonah_ ," she says, getting Josh's name wrong yet again, " _and don't wait up_!"

"Carly!" Beckett yells again, though the line's already dead. Quickly dialing the loft's phone number, she curses and kicks the tire of her cruiser when there's no answer. She'd call Carly's hotel, except she hasn't bothered to find out where her friend is staying. And now that first shift has ended, there are no techs around who she might be able to beg or threaten into tracking their phones, assuming they're on.

Throwing herself ineffectually into the front seat of her cruiser, Beckett knocks her head against the steering wheel. Her last thought before starting the car to wander off to the precinct to start checking hotel guest rosters is that their phones also provide them a reason to return to the same place after their date, whether that's Castle's loft or Carly's hotel room.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Castle or the recognizable characters who appear in this story. Any other names, for characters or businesses, are fictional or uncompensated.

* * *

 **Friday, Just After Midnight**

Beckett knocks lightly on the door of room 1115 at the St. Regis Hotel, which opens immediately. There stands Castle, suit jacket and tie abandoned, sleeves rolled up nearly to his elbows. But the most prominent part of his looks is his obvious gratitude that Beckett's here.

Stepping past him and into the luxurious hotel suite, Beckett waits for Castle to lead her deeper inside. He takes her hand silently escorting her to the doorway of the bedroom, through which she can see Carly, in her little black dress, passed out on top of the bed.

"What did you do to her?" Beckett can't help but ask when she sees her friend utterly out of it.

"What did I do?" Castle asks incredulously. "I was perfectly well behaved. Which frustrated her to no end."

"So, she preferred a nap?" Beckett replies sarcastically.

"No, she preferred vodka," he answers with a rueful smile. "Lots and lots of vodka. And trust me, having her asleep is the best option, Beckett. Your friend is a _mean_ drunk."

Walking over to the bed, Beckett lightly taps her friend's cheek. She's breathing heavily, but there's no reaction to the taps. "She's never dealt well with frustration," she offers as explanation, not apology.

"Neither have I," Castle admits before realizing that his eyes are lingering on Beckett. Looking away, he accentuates the difference. "But you don't see me pounding drinks to get over it."

"What am I doing here, Castle?" Beckett asks quietly, mostly to remind herself and to shift the conversation onto safer territory, leading them back towards the lounge for this conversation.

"I'm sorry I interrupted your plans with Josh and I know this is a terrible favor to ask," Castle prefaces with a grimace, "but I'm worried about her. Someone should stay with her and I couldn't think of anyone else to call."

"Why would you call someone else?" Beckett asks, puzzled. "She's my friend."

"I'm sure," Castle answers slowly and carefully, "that you've had more nights helping someone deal with the after-effects of alcohol than you'd care to remember. I almost didn't call," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down.

"I'm glad you did," Beckett answers, appreciating his dilemma and his decision to reach out, as well as his consideration about past experiences with her father. "You didn't interrupt anything, and this is more important anyway."

Castle nods, relieved that he's not overstepped. Or is he relieved that she wasn't with Josh when he called?

"And I'm glad you're okay," Beckett adds softly, recalling her earlier panic to reach him. "I tried to warn you before she took your phone, but…"

"She drugged me?" Castle interrupts with a smile. "It's hardly my first time, Beckett," he says with a smile that graduates to a chuckle at her shocked look. "I've had the Gold-digger's Delight before, but she gets bonus points for trying the milkshake form – it was a delicious innovation!"

Looking at her partner as if he's grown an extra head, Beckett can't contain her question, or her volume. "You knew what it was and you still drank it?!"

"Free milkshake, Beckett," Castle answers with a sly smile and a small shrug. "Plus, I figured I'd need a little energy and focus to get through the evening."

"What do you mean?" Beckett asks, surprised by a comment that suggests he hasn't been completely invested in the serial outings with Carly. "I thought you were interested in her."

"She's an interesting woman and I've enjoyed talking to her," Castle admits, "but she was a little lonely so I tried to be a good friend to your good friend. She told me you kept ditching her for Josh, but I'm starting to suspect that wasn't the case."

"You could be a detective, Castle," Beckett answers, annoyed at herself for missing this obvious maneuver by Carly. "Carly's the one who's been bailing out. She met Josh once and they didn't exactly get along."

"You mean Jonah?" Castle asks with a smile.

"Yeah, him," Beckett answers with Carly's usual reply, unable to stop a grin. It drops slowly from her face, though, as she recognizes that Castle's joke was a diversion, a way for him to deal with the topic of Josh. It reminds Beckett that there were other aspects of Carly's plan, and cocktail, that haven't been addressed. And since they've already breached the topic (well, nearly), and since it's very late (or, rather, very early), she decides to ask.

"I can see energy and focus being useful for an outing with Carly," she leads in, looking into the bedroom to see her snoring friend, "but what about the…," she trails off, losing courage.

"We're swimming in dangerous waters here, Beckett," Castle answers with a cocked eyebrow. "I'll only say that I hardly need the assistance," he brags, puffing his chest out, "and enduring inopportunely timed or prolonged reactions is hardly new territory for me," he ends by giving her a knowing look.

She really should let things drop there. He wasn't kidding about dangerous waters, and Castle's looking at her like he's a hungry shark. But, still…

"But why?" Beckett presses, catching Castle off guard. "Carly's beautiful, sexy, and fun. Her interest in you was obvious, and you even share background and tastes," she rambles, unable to stop herself, even though she didn't want Carly anywhere near Castle. "Given your reputation, I don't get it. And neither did she."

Any worries that she pushed too far are immediately allayed by his playful look. But they're soon replaced by worries that she might regret his response.

"You should know by now that my reputation isn't terribly accurate," he chides with a smile. "But, there's a simple answer to your question. Succumbing to your friend's advances would've been an obvious Man-code violation."

"Man-code violation?" Beckett parrots back, wondering if there were other drugs in that cocktail or if Carly spiked him again at the restaurant. "You mean like ' _go home to her place so she doesn't know where you live_?'"

"I said Man-code, Beckett," he replies indignantly, shaking his head in mock dismay, "not Bro-code."

"So, is the first rule of Man-code not to talk about Man-code?" she asks facetiously.

"Don't be ridiculous," Castle dismisses again. "Article 4, Section 2, says don't talk about Man-Code. Section 3 says talk about anything that would otherwise jeopardize your relationship."

"Really?" Beckett asks, stifling a laugh. "Man-code says to give it all up when pressed?"

"Beckett," he replies in exasperation, "the Man-code is thousands of years old. We might act otherwise, but we all know that if it comes down to keeping the code secret or making a woman happy, we'll sell out the code in a heartbeat."

"That's interesting," she admits, enjoying this ridiculous conversation and Castle's obvious gift for improvisation, which she decides to test. "So, what's Article 1 of the code?"

"' _If you have a child_ ,'" Castle intones seriously, "' _then you're not a man unless you're a father_.' Simple."

Of course, Beckett nods to herself. Maybe it's not improvisation after all, since this is obviously a core tenet of Castle's belief system, even if he hides it in the fiction of the 'Man-code.' Maybe she should be a little more careful about poking around, she thinks. Or maybe she should be a little more direct.

"I'm getting a little lost here, Castle," she admits. "Which Man-code rule would you violate by letting Carly land the White Whale?"

Smirking at the nickname, Castle answers immediately. "Article 2, Section 3."

"Which is…?" she asks in exasperation, annoyed that he's drawing this out.

"' _Never engage in relations with someone who would affect your partner's invite list for your wedding_.'"

" _What_?!" Beckett practically shouts, head spinning quickly to the side to see if she's woken Carly. " _Wedding_? Castle, we're not even dating!"

"Beckett, we've been inevitable since the beginning," he says with maddeningly calm certainty, as if stating the obvious. "Tisdale was a gimme. But after you let me come back for that second case, we might as well have printed up the invitations."

"Your ego is unbelievable," Beckett marvels, keeping her tone low while she starts to pace. "It's even bigger than your chemically-enhanced…"

"Now, now," Castle interrupts, clearly trying to contain his smile. And failing. "There's no reason to get _testy_ ," he admonishes, staying on-theme.

"Castle, I'm seeing someone else right now!" she tries to remind him. "Jonah! I mean Josh!" she yells, blushing immediately at getting his name wrong. Damn Carly.

But rather than tease her about misspeaking, Castle draws closer and bends his head, creating an aura of hushed confidentiality. "Let me tell you something, Beckett," he whispers. "Everyone thinks they know me – the press, my readers, my family, even you. But, you want to know a secret?" he entices with his voice, his eyes, his very presence.

"Yes," Beckett whispers back, hating herself for having been lured in but unable to stop.

"I'm not a virgin," he whispers, ridiculously, causing Beckett to recoil and shake her head again. "Alexis might be close to divine, but I was involved," he declares proudly. "And I've been with a few other women, too. It'd be pretty churlish of me to begrudge your past relationships, wouldn't it?"

"This isn't a past relationship!" Beckett answers in exasperation, knocked off balance by Castle's uncharacteristically direct declaration.

"Yes, it is," he disagrees. "Neither of you know it right now," he asserts, assessing her, "or admit it. But it's obviously not going to work out. Josh might be a nice guy, but there's a fundamental reason you'd never be able to stay with him."

"Oh, really," Beckett ripostes, letting her anger help her find a way out of this conversation. "Tell me, oh wise master of successful relationships, Josh's fatal flaw."

"I didn't say it was a flaw," Castle answers evenly. "Some people might find it a virtue, but not you.

" _Castle_ …," she growls while leaning toward him, threatening him to get to the point.

"He's boring," he declares clearly. " _Boring_ , Beckett. The only change in his routine is whether he goes to bed early here or at his clinic. You can do almost anything, Beckett, and do it extraordinarily well. But you can't embrace a dull routine. You don't want to."

"There's a lot to be said for acting like an adult, Castle," she replies, trying to shift the focus to him in order to avoid considering his observation.

"Sure, but why act like a geriatric automaton?" he asks honestly. "You crave challenges like you crave caffeine. Challenges like… like crashing charity dances or inappropriate wagers or masquerading as Svetlana while hitting the tables or pretending you don't believe in vampires."

"You're describing work, Castle," Beckett grumps, thinking about the cases he's mentioned.

"No, Beckett," he replies, showing just a hint of exasperation that she's not seeing his point. "I'm describing what makes work fun. You pointed out my less-than-successful romantic history, right?" he asks rhetorically, referring back to her jibe. "Well, here's what I learned, what was missing in those relationships – fun. Life is serious enough. A marriage needs to include a sense of fun or it just becomes a different kind of job."

"So, I'm just supposed to throw Josh aside in the name of _fun_?" she asks. "That hardly sounds reasonable. Or mature."

"No," Castle replies. "I'm your partner, remember? It took you a long time to admit you were having fun with me underfoot in the precinct," he says with a proud, playful look, "and it'll take some time for you to accept that it might appeal outside of the precinct, too."

"So, you're just sitting around waiting?" she asks with some heat. "That sounds pretty pathetic, Castle."

Smiling broadly in the face of her challenge, he leans in again. "Here's my other secret, Beckett: I'm just a _little_ bit older than you," he says, holding up a hand with his thumb and index finger showing only a tiny amount of space between them. "I've made my mistakes – plenty of 'em. You're still making yours. But I think you're learning faster than I did."

Shaking her head anew at his confidence, Beckett can't help but challenge his characterization. "So, all our past troubles – Demming, Gina, Natalie – those were just mistakes? Diversions?"

"Nobody likes to read a simple story, Beckett," Castle answers calmly. "We had our challenges, and we'll have more. But, we'll survive them. It's how the story… well, it's not how the story ends, but it's how the story changes because the protagonists unite."

"You've got an answer for everything, don't you?" she charges to buy herself some space and time to think.

"I'm not sure how to answer that," he admits. "It's true that I've spent a long time – years – wondering about what the future holds for us. But it's also true that I knew after the nanny case that we'd find our way to each other."

"We are never gonna happen, Castle," Beckett replies, deciding that she needs to end this discussion and regroup before testing these waters again.

But if she thought a direct refutation was going to put him off, she was apparently mistaken, based on the way he's sizing her up. "Then you're good for a wager, right?" he replies with a look of challenge.

"A bet?" she asks, warily intrigued though she knows she should ignore this suggestion entirely. "You want to bet on whether we'll be married?"

"Why not?" he asks with a shrug. "You seem confident and I know you're wrong. Perfect conditions for a bet," he says while rubbing his hands together in anticipation. Noticing her growing anger, Castle plows forward. "You win if either of us is at the altar with a different person. Name your prize."

"Your departure from the precinct," she answers immediately with eyebrow perched, testing his resolve.

"That would happen anyway," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. "Your husband would never abide your repeated close proximity to my rugged handsomeness," he asserts, driving home his point that he's not the one whose decisions would lead to this scenario.

Beckett, meanwhile, wants to refute his characterization, but Josh's behavior suggests that Castle's comment might be accurate.

"Come on, Beckett, this is never gonna happen anyway, so pick something _fun_ ," he says to emphasize his earlier point.

"Your Ferrari," she challenges, expecting him to balk.

"Done," he answers immediately, shocking her. "Surprised? I'm gonna lose that to you anyway when we get together, so nothing changes."

"And if you win?" she asks, anxious to move this discussion along but also sensing a trap. "What do you want?"

" _When_ I win," he replies confidently, "I'll already have everything I want," he confesses, his eyes boring into hers to show his sincerity. Recognizing her discomfort, he averts his gaze before continuing. "But," he adds impishly, "just to make things interesting, I get naming rights."

"Naming rights to what?"

"Our first born, obviously," he replies while rolling his eyes. "Keep up, Beckett."

"I would _never_ agree to a bet like that," Beckett vows, head already spinning with the possible names Castle might concoct just to tease her.

"What's the problem?" he asks as if honestly confused. "It's just for our first child. I probably wouldn't even interfere much with naming the others."

" _The others_?!" she replies, forgetting again to keep her voice down. "You're insane."

"Certifiable," he agrees with a nod. "But not crazy enough to violate Section 3 of Article 2," he offers, bringing them back to where they started.

Beckett's incredulous laughter is interrupted by a low moan from the bed, as their racket, or a short burst of sobriety, causes Carly to stir.

"I'd better see to Carly," Beckett says, whispering again. "And if she's waking up, it might be best if you weren't here."

"Agreed," he replies with a nod, surprising Beckett with his consideration in letting their conversation drop so suddenly. "Thank you for caring for her. Things might not've gone how she wanted, but I still enjoyed talking to her. You wouldn't believe the dirt I've collected on young Katie Beckett. Plus, her views on religion made for some interesting discussions!"

"I'll bet," Beckett replies. "About the interesting discussions, not your wager!" she clarifies quickly, quashing Castle's look of delight and smiling in spite of herself. "Go," she urges him with shooing motions, trying to clear her head. "I'll take it from here. Until tomorrow, Rick."

Quirking his head at her farewell, Castle offers a nod and a secret smile. "Until tomorrow, Kate."

* * *

 **Friday, Early Morning**

Beckett awakens in an awkward position on the lounge's sofa, Carly's snores from the bedroom loud enough to shake the walls between them. Spinning slowly into a sitting position, Beckett rubs her neck before slowly stretching all of her extremities in turn. She's nursing a powerful headache, so she avails herself of some of the Tylenol she forced on her friend a few hours ago. After gulping a few glasses of water and splashing her face, Beckett finally faces reality and fumbles for her cell phone, cursing when she sees the time. There're also two text messages, but those will have to wait.

Her hopes to leave Captain Montgomery a voicemail are dashed when he answers on the first ring. Figuring honesty is the best option, she begs off work for the morning, explaining that she's nursing along a sick friend. Montgomery grumbles but assents. In insisting that she show up after lunch, he lets slip that she's lucky he's in a good mood – Friday morning and coffee and donuts courtesy of Castle seem to have him in high spirits. Appropriately grateful, Beckett rings off and wonders if Castle's breakfast delivery was made with the hope of easing her way.

Those thoughts remind her to check those text messages. Sure enough, the first is from him, sent about an hour after he left the St. Regis:

 **Thanks for helping with Carly. Please don't worry about what we discussed – I've waited this long and can keep on. But make no mistake, Kate: I am waiting.**

It's not clear whether this was his intent, but sending that text was a very shrewd move on Castle's part. Things were odd last night, almost surreal. It would've been easy to dismiss their conversation as an aberration or an outgrowth of Castle's pharmaceutical mystery tour. But the text is a landmark, a flag on the moon: it's proof that they went there, that they had the conversation. He's willing to let the topic drop, but he's not willing to let them forget.

The second text, sent a few hours after Castle's, is from Josh:

 **Where are you? Stopped by with coffee this morning but you weren't there.**

That's odd. Josh never stops by in the morning. He's got to get up early to be at the hospital in time for surgery, and if she's not working she's desperately grabbing whatever sleep she can. And then there's the coffee – that's new, too, and seemingly at odds with his derisive comments about Castle's usefulness at the precinct. Is he trying to find new ways to connect, or is this about marking his territory? Or, she wonders more darkly, was the coffee a pretext for him to see if she was in her apartment this morning?

Beckett's pondering both texts as she exits the bathroom and hears fumbling from the bedroom. Heading that way, she sees that Carly's awake, pitifully hungover, and in a black mood. The few words she manages to grunt indicate that she still intends to catch her flight, though it'll be an uphill battle to make that happen and Carly hardly seems like she'll be ready to start a yoga retreat later today.

Still, as Castle pointed out very carefully, Beckett's an old hand at this chore, unfortunately. In less time than she feared, she's got Carly washed, dressed, and packed. They've just entered the elevator, after entrusting the luggage to a porter, when Carly finally breaks her silence.

"You should've told me he was in love with you," she grumbles as the elevator descends, reaching out to brace herself against the wall of their car.

"Yes," she admits, both to her friend and to herself. "I should've. But I don't think I realized how genuine he is. Besides," she adds, shifting gears as she articulates a theory that chrystalized this morning, "you knew. That's why you tried so hard. You've always been competitive."

"And you've always been confusing," Carly replies, fumbling to extract her sunglasses as they shuffle out of the elevator and head toward the waiting Town Car. "Why you're with that stiff instead of Rick I'll never understand."

"Me neither," Beckett whispers as she gives her friend a farewell hug and helps her settle into the car.

Beckett stands in place until the car pulls away from the curb, cutting a path toward the airport. It was a chaotic visit, but Beckett wishes her friend well. It's not how she thought this visit would go, but she's starting to realize that she should be thankful. Without the intrusion of her friend, Beckett thinks she'd still be laboring under a number of misimpressions and false understandings.

As if to accentuate her musings, Beckett's phone trills in her pocket. It's not quite lunchtime, so it's not Montgomery. But, she's careful to check the number this time before she answers.

"Hi, Jonah," she says as she answers, grinning to herself.

"Who's Jonah?" Josh asks in confusion.

"Sorry," Beckett offers. "Just a joke. I checked the number this time so I knew it was you."

"Where are you?" he replies, apparently not wanting to explore the joke.

"The St. Regis," she replies.

"Oh," he replies, cautiously. "With…?"

"I just saw Carly off to the airport," states, unimpressed with the implications of his questions.

"Oh, good," he answers, sounding relieved. "So, are you available for lunch?"

The sad thing, she realizes, is that she's doing exactly what she told Castle would be unreasonable and immature. But, really, how much longer does she need? What information does she need that she hasn't learned during her friend's brief but explosive visit? It's past time, she realizes, feeling suddenly light at heart, to stop wasting time.

"Yes," Beckett agrees, "we should meet for lunch. We need to talk."

For the first time she can remember, Beckett thinks as she rings off, she's used those last four, ominous words to intentionally adopt their dire overtone. And, from the audible gulp she heard in return, Josh heard enough to know that the phrase wasn't used unintentionally. Looks like she's in for another stressful lunch today, something that's become a regular occurrence this week.

But Castle will be at the precinct when she's done with lunch. Maybe he'd be up for a drink after work? She's going to take some time to think about everything that's happened this week and everything that led to it. But maybe Castle would like to hear that they're both waiting now, and perhaps not for much longer.

* * *

A/N: Just a little lark that was lurking in the back of my head while I finished my last story. Thanks to Shutterbug5269 for giving it a read to make sure it wasn't completely off the wall.


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